Tak van een skimmia c. 1900 - 1930

Richard Tepe made this photograph of a skimmia branch, sometime between when he was born in 1864 and when he died in 1952. It’s a study in monochrome, shades of brown and cream, and the way the light catches each tiny bloom. It's like a dance of focus and blur, all achieved through the alchemical process of photography. What strikes me is the texture – the velvety softness implied in the petals against the sharp edges of the leaves. Look closely, and you’ll notice how the light delicately grazes the surface, creating subtle shifts in tone. It’s almost sculptural, this plant. The way Tepe has arranged it, the composition feels so deliberate, each leaf and flower head playing its part in a carefully orchestrated whole. I’m reminded a little of the photographs of Karl Blossfeldt – both artists sharing that incredible eye for detail, finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. With Blossfeldt though, you sense a more scientific approach, whereas here, with Tepe, there’s a gentler, more lyrical quality. Both though, invite us to see the world anew, to appreciate the beauty that’s always been there, waiting for us to notice.